A bird cut across the sunset sky, and the magnificent city on the horizon became a jet-black silhouette.
Asgard's scenery was always more magnificent and spectacular. This city suspended alone in the void of space looked lonely yet radiant beneath the setting sun.
After a satisfying battle in the training grounds, the people of Asgard always liked to soak in the baths. Naturally, the royal family was no exception, except their bathhouse was more luxurious.
At the core of the World Tree lay a mysterious space accessible only to Asgard's royal family. Yet they did not go there to pray; they merely went there to bathe.
The World Tree was not a real tree. The Nine Realms were merely leaves upon its branches, while at its very core was a lush green space. Deep within the grasslands and woods, a steaming hot spring bubbled endlessly.
At that moment, Schiller, Loki, and Strange were soaking in the hot spring.
Strange pulled over a wooden board floating on the water, laden with fresh, delicious fruit. He split open a spiky fruit and took a bite, shuddering from the sourness.
Schiller took a sip of wine and leaned his head against a rock at the edge of the spring. The coolness of the stone dissipated the heat that had built up from soaking for so long. He let out a satisfied sigh and began to feel drowsy.
"You'd better stay awake. Falling asleep in a hot spring isn't a good habit," Loki reminded him.
He also pulled the floating fruit platter closer, picked up another fruit, sliced it into pieces with divine power, speared one with a silver fork, and put it into his mouth. Then he looked disdainfully at Strange, who was eating his fruit directly.
"Seriously, how did you suddenly close